Truth Twisters
by Aggiebell
Summary: A break-in, a missing ledger, and a new Wheeze add up to a mystery that needs solving. Good thing Ginny's on the case. Slightly AU.
1. Chapter 1: Perplexing Puzzle

_**Author's Notes: **_Many thanks to **queenb23more**,** rdprice29**, and** sherylyn** for their super-speedy betaing skilz, and to **ohginnyfan**, who helped fill in some plot holes I'd left in the original draft. Special thanks to **mollywheezy**, who's been an amazing idea bouncer-offer while I was writing this.

This is my first attempt at something AU, although it's not _all_ that AU, really. This was written for Itsbeenvery for the Keeping Secrets fest at the **takingitinturns **community at Livejournal. Itsbeenvery requested tax fraud and audits, bad disguises, and tongue twisters. Be prepared for lots of alliteration. :)

Harry Potter Publishing Rights belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.

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**Chapter 1: Perplexing Puzzle**

"Bloody, buggering hell," Ginny Weasley grumbled to herself as she looked around the crowded pub, searching for her date. _No_, she reminded herself, 'date' wasn't the right word, no matter how much she wished it were. Maybe _friend_ was more accurate. Or dinner partner. Or…something. She shook her head; it wasn't worth thinking about right now. The important thing was that she was looking for Harry, and what she called him at the moment was immaterial—they had a long-standing weekly dinner…meeting. _Date. _She huffed in disgust at her inability to find the right word. Whatever they called it, they met every Wednesday at half-seven at the Gryphon and Unicorn. Sometimes, Neville or her brothers would join them, but it was usually just her and Harry, some butterbeer or ale (if she wasn't on duty), and the best fish and chips in England.

She almost hadn't showed today. Not because she didn't want to see Harry, but because she was certain to be horrible company after the day she'd had. Her partner had been an arse (which was nothing new) but he'd been a bigger arse than normal that morning. She'd been impressed, almost. She hadn't known it was even possible for someone to be that much of an arse, even if his name was Draco Malfoy.

She brushed the rain droplets off her dark blue Auror's uniform and scanned the pub again, looking for Harry's trademark black hair. Her gaze skimmed over and then returned to stop on a redhead with a long bushy beard, and she rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. He was trying—and failing—to disguise himself. Again. She threaded her way through the tables over to him and dropped into the seat.

"Nice beard," she said, eying his so-called disguise. "Honestly, Potter, is that the best you can do?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair self-consciously. "How'd you know it was me?"

She raised her eyebrow at him and reached across the table to take some of his crisps and a swig of his butterbeer. He rolled his eyes. "Help yourself," he said dryly.

"Thanks," she said, sitting in the chair across from him. She was starving— she'd been on duty since half-six that morning, she hadn't had a chance for breakfast or lunch, and her day had been utter rubbish—so she pulled the basket and bottle of butterbeer over to her side of the table. She finished the rest of his crisps and drained the butterbeer, leaning back in her chair to give him an assessing look. "Your beard doesn't match your moustache, Harry. Wrong texture. And the colour's all wrong. It's too red—you look like you stuck your head into a vat of George's Roughish Rouge. Besides, your hair's still doing its—" she moved her hands to imitate spikes around her head—"thing, just in red instead of black. Did you even _bother_ to look at yourself in a mirror this morning?"

He looked sheepish. "Didn't have time," he mumbled. "Collins kept us late, so I rushed it a bit."

"A bit?" Ginny asked.

"A bit. I almost didn't make it here on time."

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "I almost didn't make it here at all."

"Rough day?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't know the half of it," she said. "You know that…erm…incident with Pansy Parkinson last week? In the park?" Harry nodded. "Yeah, well, Robards wasn't too impressed by that. He assigned me to records on top of my normal duties, so I have to go in early every morning for the next two weeks."

Harry winced, and Ginny winced with him. She didn't have a reputation for being a morning person, and everyone knew it.

"So I was in the office at half-six this morning—without breakfast, I'll have you know—"

"Too bad I wasn't there. I'd've cooked for you."

She flashed him a grin. "I know you would've. Anyway, I have to file all the night reports, which wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to read and summarize them all first."

Harry blinked. "That sounds…"

"Like torture?" Ginny asked, grimacing. "It is. Did you know that between eleven and midnight, four people Splinched themselves while leaving nightclubs? Or that there were three drunks caught urinating on magical monuments, seven vandalism calls, two cases of Muggle-baiting, and five incidences of indecent exposure? The indecent exposure was all the same bloke; he was pissed and kept flashing his bits to everyone he saw. Demelza wasn't too impressed with his…endowments, if her notes in the report are correct."

Harry choked on a laugh. "She _wrote_ that in her report?"

"Oh, yes," Ginny said, "in excruciating detail."

Harry shook his head. "Oh, the glamorous life of an Auror."

She kicked him under the table good-naturedly. "Whose turn is it to buy?" she asked, tipping her head toward the bar.

"I'll get it," Harry volunteered. "D'you want your usual or are you going to be adventurous tonight?"

She tilted her head, considering, and said, "The usual, I think. Those reports were adventure enough for me today." She watched as he went up to the bar and placed their order, coming back with two pints of ale. It was hard to miss that she wasn't the only woman watching—he was quite fit, the ridiculous disguise notwithstanding—and she tamped down on the jealousy that was bubbling up inside her. She had no claim on him, other than as his friend, she reminded herself.

"And how was your day?" she asked, once he had their food and drinks and joined her again.

He shrugged and took a bite of his fish, chasing it down with a swig of ale. "The usual. We had practice this morning and a scrimmage this afternoon."

"And you caught the Snitch, I presume?" Ginny asked, smirking.

Harry shot her an exasperated look. "Yes, and…?"

"Nothing, nothing," she said gaily. She had a bet with George as to when Harry would lose his first race to the Snitch, and if he could make it two more weeks, she'd be twenty Galleons richer…but she didn't think Harry would appreciate knowing that.

"At least we've got the next two weeks off," he said, "or mostly off. We've got to go in for team meetings in the mornings, but we're supposed to be done by ten, and we're supposed to keep doing our conditioning on our own. But other than that, they're giving us a bit of a break before the season starts in earnest."

"Yeah?" Ginny said wistfully. "Wish I could have some time off. What are you going to do with yourself? Laze about the house answering your fan mail?"

Harry made a face at her. "No, I'm not going to 'laze about the house answering my fan mail,'" he said. "I'm no Lockhart."

She patted his hand. "I know you're not, Harry," she said. "You could always work on your disguises. You know, see if you can make your beard look real and not something from one of those Muggle costume shops."

"Is it really that bad?" he asked again. She grinned and he sighed, defeated. "Yeah, it is, isn't it? Bugger. Maybe..." he looked at her, a strange sort of gleam in his eye, "maybe _you_ could teach me how to do it right. You aced your Stealth and Disguises training, didn't you?"

She felt her face flush. "I wasn't that good."

He snorted. "From what I hear, you fooled the head of the MLES." He tilted his head and started blinking his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. "Please, Ginny? I need all the help I can get. The fangirls..." His expression turned serious and he grimaced. "They're getting worse and worse. I can't even go for a walk in my own back garden without having someone outside the wards trying to spy on me."

She shook her head. "All right, all right. No need to beg." She gave him a considering look. "Yeah. I'll do it. But we've got to go see my brothers first."

"Thanks, Ginny," Harry said, "you're the best. But...why your brothers?"

"Because outside the Department, WWW's got the best selection of costuming supplies," she said, standing up and taking one last drink of her ale. "Besides, I haven't seen the plonkers in a while. I miss them." She stared at him. "Are you coming then, Potter, or you planning on sitting there all night?"

"What? Oh. Yeah, I'm coming."

She grinned. Harry was a bit adorable when he was befuddled.

"Oi, gits!" Ginny shouted when they'd stepped through the door of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. "You lot in?" She'd had to unlock the door on her own since the shop was closed for the evening. Luckily, George had condescended to letting family get through the wards mostly unscathed. She'd have to check the mirror once she got home, though. The last time she'd been to visit, she'd come home with stripes of blue flashing lights in her hair. She'd had a devil of a time explaining _that_ to her boss.

She grinned when Percy stuck his head through the door leading to the back of the shop. "We're back here, Ginevra," he said. "Hello, Harry."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Percy had lightened up a lot since the war, but some things never changed.

She motioned to Harry as she followed Percy past the counter and into the back room, dropping a kiss on his cheek and punching Ron in the shoulder as she perched on the desk.

"Ginny," George said, sounding very happy to see her, "what are you doing here this fine, fateful evening? And who is the devilish don you're with?"

Ginny looked back at Harry to see he still hadn't removed his beard or changed his hair back to its normal colour. "Honestly, Potter, I have no idea how you expect to get by if you can't even manage to change back to normal by yourself." She withdrew her wand to get rid of Harry's disguise, but he beat her to it, cancelling the spells himself.

"O-ho. It's young Mr Potter," George said. "Ronald, Percival, look who's here. The Saviour of the Wizarding World, the star of the Appleby Arrows, the Most Eligible Bachelor in all of Great Britain…"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You know, George," he said, "that even though I'm not an Auror like Ginny, here, I can still wield my wand quite handily." There was a beat before he hastily added, "Not that wand, this wand. I mean, the one I cast spells with. I mean…"

"Harry," Ginny said, laughing, "shut it. You're only making it worse."

He bumped her with his shoulder and she laughed. She was proud of herself—she'd actually managed to get through a conversation about Harry's…wand…without blushing—her training as an Auror was coming in handy, after all. Harry, on the other hand, hadn't been so fortunate, and George and Ron had leapt at the chance to take the mickey out of him.

"Sod off, you lot," he said. "You know what I meant."

"You two eaten?" Ron asked. "I was going to pick up some curry. Want some?"

"Nah, we ate earlier," Harry answered. "Thanks, though."

"Well, I'm starving!" Ron selected a sweet from a bowl sitting on the table and popped it into his mouth. "Sybil stupefies spiders in the cellar." Ron laughed. "Maybe that's why I didn't like Trelawney."

Harry and Ginny both looked at Ron as if he'd grown a second head, and he grinned and ate another toffee. "A box of mixed biscuits, a mixed biscuit box."

"For the love of—_ what_ are you on about, Ron?" Ginny asked.

George and Ron started laughing at Ginny's reaction. "Go on and get the food, Ron, I'll explain."

He waited until Ron had left before saying, "It's our latest product: Truth Twisters. They make you talk in tongue-twisters, with a twist." He paused to grin at them. "Whatever you say right after you chew one is the absolute truth. See, look." He popped a sweet into his mouth. "Angry Angelina is an angelic angel; what an angelic angel angry Angelina is."

Harry snorted. "What'd you do to make her angry?"

"I don't think I want to know," Ginny murmured. "Sometimes you're better off in the dark. Trust me."

"Want one?" George asked, offering them to Harry, who shook his head, looking a bit nervous.

"Oh, go on, Harry. They're perfectly safe. Look, even Percy will eat one. Won't you, Perce?"

"If I must," Percy answered.

"Of course you must," George said. "It's in your contract, clause ten, paragraph twenty-four."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Of course it is," he said, taking the sweet from his brother. Ginny laughed at his disgruntled expression.

"Perfect prefect Percy pricked pickles with pins," he said, the tips of his ears turning bright red when he finished.

"Really?" George said, drawing the word out. "And what would you be doing pricking pickles with pins, perfect Prefect Percy?"

Percy gave George a haughty look. "That," he said, "is none of your business."

"Well, la-de-da," George said. He turned to offer the toffees to Harry again. "Sure you don't want to try one?"

Harry's gaze slid to Ginny for just a second before going back to George. "I'm sure, thanks," he said. He looked around the workroom. "What else new have you got?"

Ginny let her mind wander when George started rattling off new products and what they did, although she did keep her eye on Harry. Just for the sake of making sure her brothers didn't try to trick him into testing something, of course, because she _wasn't_ watching him. She wondered a bit at the looks she'd seen him give her that evening, at the pub and again when he refused to try the toffee (although she had to admit that showed his good sense more than anything) but eventually decided she was just imagining them.

Her attention shifted back to George and Percy who were arguing, again, about what Percy had been doing to the poor, defenceless pickles. She caught Harry's eye, and they grinned at each other. By that time, George and Percy had got so loud in their yelling that she almost missed the owl tapping on the window.

"George," she said, "you've an owl." They ignored her. "_George! " _Finally, she reached over and slapped him on the back of the head.

"Oi! What was that for?"

"If you two would quit arguing over perfect prefect Percy and his pickle pricking prowess for a few seconds, you'd realise you've got an owl." She grinned when Harry winked at her.

George gave her a disgruntled look. "And I was just about to figure out why Perce here was pricking pickles. Fine. Let's have it, then. There's treats and water over there," he told the owl after he'd untied the letter.

His expression first was disbelieving, then confused, and finally settled on incredulous. "What's the matter, George?" Ginny asked.

"We're being audited," he said. "Something about discrepancies in our books and owing back taxes for the past—" he checked the letter again— "two years?" He looked at Percy and raised his eyebrow.

"There's obviously been some mistake," Percy said. "We've paid every year, right on time. And as for there being discrepancies in the books?" He looked haughty again. "It's impossible. I don't mean to brag, but I'm very meticulous."

"We know you are, Percy," Harry said. "That's why George and Ron asked you to help out."

"Well, we'll just get the ledger and we'll just prove to them we're right, then," George said. "There's to be a hearing in two weeks."

"It's right here," Percy said, walking over to his desk and unlocking the drawer. "See—"

"Percy?" Ginny asked when he started rummaging franticly through the drawer, pulling things out and tossing them on the desk.

"I don't understand," he said. "It was right here yesterday. I entered in the day's proceeds and locked it back in the drawer, like I do every day. I _know_ it was there."

"We believe you, Percy," Ginny said.

"No, you don't understand. I don't lose things." He started looking around the room, under the desk, even going so far as to look behind the portrait of Fred. "I can still tell you where to find the very first book Mum and Dad bought for me. I'm positive I locked the ledger in the drawer." He started rummaging through it again.

"Wait," Ginny said. "Has there been anyone else back here? Other than the five of us, I mean?"

"Not that I know of," Percy said, looking at George. He shook his head.

"Right," Ginny said, taking over. "Don't touch anything else. We need to wait for Ron to get back and see if he noticed anyone. There's something not right about this situation."

"Well!" Percy exclaimed, looking quite put out. "What we have here is an arcanum arcanorum."

End chapter 1

_**A/N part 2:**_  
Ron's tongue twister about the biscuits came from www[dot]indianchild[dot]com/tongue_twisters[dot]htm. The rest either came from my twisted mind or from the brilliance that is mollywheezy. Arcanum arcanorum means secret of secrets or mystery of mysteries.

This is chapter 1 of 4; the story is complete, other than one last run-through of the last part by my uber-cool super-beta, **ohginnyfan.** I'm planning on posting another chapter every other day or so until it's done.


	2. Chapter 2: Troubling Times

**Chapter 2: Troubling Times**

"A what?" Harry asked blankly.

"An arcanum arcanorum," Percy said. "A secret of secrets. A mystery of mysteries."

"Or," George said, "a burglary."

"Well, yes," Percy said. "That too."

Ginny rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a quill and some parchment. "Percy," she said, "when was the last time you saw the ledger?"

"Last night, around half-eight. We closed up as normal, and I brought the till back here to count while George and Ron did the inventory and restocked out front."

"And did you notice anything unusual?"

"No," he said, "nothing." He looked to George for confirmation. "I said the password to unlock the desk—"

"Wait," Ginny interrupted, "there's a password?"

"What do you take us for, Ginny, idiots? Of course there's a password," George said. "We learned 'constant vigilance' from Moody, same as you did." There was a moment of silence as they all remembered the fallen Auror.

"Who knows the password?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.

"Trying to do my job for me, Harry?" Ginny asked.

He shrugged. "No, not really. Just curious, mostly."

"Hmm," she said as she turned to her brothers. "It's a good question, though. Who _does_ know the password?

"George and Ron," Percy said, "and me, of course. That's it."

"Did I hear my name? You lot aren't talking about me, are you?" Ron asked as he entered the room and dumped the containers of food on the table. He nodded at Harry and Ginny. "I brought you two some of that chicken you like, just in case…" He looked around the room, his eyes narrowing. "What's wrong?"

"Did you notice anything strange last night, Ron?" Ginny asked. "Anything…or anyone…out of place?"

"No," he said, sounding confused, "Why?".

"The ledger's missing," George said.

Ron blinked. "Yeah, right," he said. "Good one, George. Pull the other one, why don't you?" He reached into one of the boxes on the table and pulled out a piece of meat, popping it into his mouth. "Snoway Percy'd 'oose the leger," he said thickly. He swallowed the bite he'd taken. "I mean, c'mon. He's _Percy_. He never loses anything."

"While I appreciate your faith in me, Ronald," Percy said stiffly, "I have to admit that what George says is true. I can't find the ledger."

Ron looked gobsmacked, Ginny noticed, but 'gobsmacked' was a fair description for how she felt, too. She could just hide it better than her brother.

"Look, I don't know what's going on here," Ginny said, "but it's a little suspicious. I'd like to start up a proper investigation, if that's all right with you?" She looked at her brothers in turn and was relieved when they all nodded.

"All right, then, let's start at the beginning," she said, charming her quill to take notes while she continued questioning her brothers.

Twenty-five minutes later, she still felt like she hadn't made any progress. Percy had last seen the ledger when he'd put it way the night before, none of them had seen anything or anyone out of place, and none of them could think of anyone specific who might want revenge on the three brothers (she conveniently ignored Harry's "Other than the random Death Eaters who are still roaming the countryside?" response).

"Is there anything else missing or out of place?"

"Not on first examination," Percy replied, "but we'll have to give it all a closer look to be sure."

"All right," Ginny said, gathering her parchment and the quill. "I'm going to go to the Ministry and do some checking...maybe I'll see if there have been any other reports of these kinds of break-ins." She gave Harry and her brothers a stern look. "Don't touch anything else. I'm going to want to come over again tomorrow and examine the room more closely. In fact—" she looked at George—"it might be good if you could close tomorrow so Malfoy and I can investigate without interference."

"You want us to close?" George asked.

"Do you want to catch whoever broke in?"

"Yeah, but we'll lose hundreds of Galleons if we stay closed tomorrow. Can't you just…work around us or something?"

"George," she said, trying to be patient as she explained, "we're going to need access to the whole shop."

"You're going to bring that ponce here?" Harry asked sullenly, interrupting her conversation with George.

"Of course I'm going to bring him with me," Ginny said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because he's an arse?" George asked.

She couldn't argue with that point. "That may be, but he's got to be here."

Ron looked belligerent. "I don't want that plonker in my—_our_—shop," he said.

"He's my _partner_," Ginny explained, exasperated. "I don't like him any more than any of you do, but I have to include him if I'm investigating something."

"Fine," Ron said, crossing his arms. "But he better not say anything nasty while he's here. I won't be held responsible if he does."

"Ron," Ginny warned.

"He's an Auror, Ron," Percy said. "He's coming here to help."

"You obviously never had to deal with him then, if you're saying that," Harry said. Ginny raised her eyebrow at him. "Don't worry. We won't cause any trouble," he reassured her.

"Don't touch anything," she reminded them again, fixing each of them with her sternest _don't-mess-with-me-because-I-can-take-you-down_ look. "As a matter of fact, you lot need to leave now. That way, I know you won't disturb anything tonight."

"But—"

"No buts, Ron," she said. "Go home. Try to remember if you've seen anything suspicious. I'll talk to you in the morning."

Ginny stood outside the shop with Harry, watching George finish the locking-up process. She decided she didn't want to know what the final spell he put up did. The different colours streaming from his wand were quite scary looking.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Harry asked. He thrust his hands deep into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. "To the Ministry?"

She patted his arm. "Thanks for the offer, Harry, but no. I need to go by myself. There're places I'll need to go where you won't be allowed."

"If you're sure, then," he said, frowning a little.

"I'm sure. See you in the morning."

"Yeah," he said. "See you."

She was exhausted. She'd been there all night, poring over reports, trying to find some sort of clue as to who had stolen the ledger. The problem was that while _she_ knew Percy would never lose something that important, her supervisor didn't. He wouldn't let her officially open a case until she had irrefutable proof that there really was a case to open.

She looked at her notes, rereading the things her quill had written down from her interview with her brothers: (1) Percy was sure he'd put the ledger back in the drawer and locked it, like he habitually did every evening; (2) there was a password to the drawer in addition to the normal locking spells, and only three people knew what the password was; (3) George, Percy, or Ron hadn't seen anyone unusual in the back rooms of the shop recently; (4) there was nothing else missing or out of place as far as her brothers could tell. Taking out her quill, she added a few more questions and notes of her own.

_Alarm?__  
List of customers making purchases in the past week? Month?__  
Who has access to back rooms?  
__Any new employees?  
Follow the Galleons_

Satisfied with the progress she'd made (she at least had something resembling a starting point for when she got back to the shop), she rolled up the parchment and locked it in her desk, stretching to ease the ache in her back and neck. Some of her hair fell in front of her eyes when she did, and she wrinkled her nose when she saw it, limp and greasy after twenty-four hours. "Ergh. I need a shower."

She returned from the changing rooms after a refreshing (and distracting—she kept finding her mind drifting off to Harry and the figure he cut as he walked across the pub the previous night) shower, and a quick nap, to find her partner sitting in her chair, his feet up on her desk.

"Weasley," he drawled.

"Get your feet off my desk," she said, "and get out of my chair." She watched as he gave her an arrogant look, arching his eyebrow as he ever-so-slowly eased himself out of her chair and onto the corner of the desk.

"What do you want?" she said, sitting in her recently vacated chair and straightening the parchment on her desk.

"Why do I have to want something?" he asked. "I'm your partner; maybe I'm just here for a friendly chat."

She gave him a tired look and checked the clock on the wall. "Give me a little credit, Malfoy," she said. "It's half-seven and you're here when you don't have to be for at least another thirty minutes. And we don't chat. Ever." Besides, his voice had been anything but friendly. Condescending, arrogant, and patronising, yes, but definitely not friendly.

He sat in the chair opposite her desk. "What are we working on today, Weasley?"

She bit her lip, debating on whether or not to tell him about the break-in at the shop. The previous night, she'd been so adamant about bringing him into the investigation, but now, when it came down to it, she wasn't sure it was the best idea. Eventually, she made up her mind and passed the file over to him, watching as he read.

"So, your incompetent brothers managed to get themselves into trouble again, and you want to get them out."

"They're not incompetent," she said, grinding her teeth.

"Could've fooled me."

She gave him a dirty look. "You know what? Never mind. Give that back to me." She tried to take the file out of his hand, but he wouldn't let her. "I don't know why I ever thought you'd help. Ron and Harry were right. You _are_ an arse."

He gave her a hard look. "Why do you think the ledger was stolen and not that your brother just mislaid it somewhere?" he asked, flipping the file back open and leaning back in the chair.

"It's Percy," she said simply. "If it had been Ron who couldn't find the ledger, I probably wouldn't have batted an eye, but Percy… Percy doesn't lose things. He can probably tell you exactly how many pairs of socks he has, what colour they are, which ones need washing, and where they all are. There's no way he misplaced the ledger. I told them to close for the day, so the two of us could do a proper investigation."

He nonchalantly tossed the file onto her desk. "And you're so sure he didn't make a mistake and misplace it?" She nodded. "Don't know how you're going to prove it, Weasley. He's only human. Even perfect Percy can make a mistake."

"That's why I thought we'd go to WWW this morning and do a more thorough investigation."

"Can't, sorry," he said, sounding not at all sorry. "Robards pulled me and put me on the Greene case. I'm to report to Samson at eight."

"Of course," she said, trying not to sound bitter. "Congratulations." It was essentially a promotion for him, but there she was, being left behind (again), even though they'd been working together for almost a year. She'd known it wasn't going to be easy, being a woman in the Auror Corps, and she'd always had to work twice as hard as her male counterparts to prove her worth. She'd thought Robards had got past her femaleness and had started to see her as a valuable part of the team, but apparently she'd been wrong. It didn't help that her partner didn't only have the advantage of being male; he also had connections and no felt guilt whatsoever in using those connections to get ahead, which was something she could never bring herself to do. She wanted her achievements to be on her own merits and not because she was Arthur Weasley's daughter or Ron Weasley's sister or Harry Potter's…friend.

He smirked. "Maybe someday Robards will pull you off these petty crimes and let you do something important."

"You're going to be late," she said pointedly, ignoring his comment and looking at the clock on the wall of her cubicle.

"So I am," he said, standing up. "See you around, Weasley," he said, and, adjusting his cuffs, sauntered out though the doorway.

When she arrived at the shop, she found Harry in the front with her brothers, helping them inventory the items on the shelf. He grinned at her. "We figured we ought to get something productive done, even if the shop can't open today," he said. "Besides, I didn't want to leave George and Ron alone for this." His eyebrows narrowed as he looked behind her, presumably trying to spy her partner. "Erm. Where's the git?"

"Got himself promoted, the bastard," she said. "So it's just me for now." She pulled out her parchment and self-inking quill. "You lot didn't touch anything else, did you?" she asked.

"'Did we touch anything?' she says," George mimicked, rolling his eyes and clasping his hands to his chest melodramatically. "Why, Ginevra, I'm shocked and appalled that you would think so lowly of your brothers. Or of young Mr Potter, here."

"Shut it, you git," Ginny said, but she was grinning. George always did know how to make her smile.

"We did as you asked," Percy said. "Nobody's been into the back room since we left last night."

"Good boys," Ginny said, smiling as she made her way through the doorway and into the office.

"'Good boys?' What are we, three?" Ron grumbled.

"Are you asking about your physical age or your mental age?" Ginny asked. "Because physically, no, of course you're not three." _Especially not Harry_, she thought. "Mentally...well, there's another question, yeah?"

"Ha ha. Aren't you funny?" Ron said.

"Of course I am," Ginny said. "But that's neither here nor there right now. Right now, we need to get to the bottom of this. You lot stay out here while I work, understand?"

"But—"

"No buts, Ron," she said. "Go finish your inventory or something."

"_Fine_."

"Fine," she said, catching Harry's eye over Ron's head. He winked at her and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered to life.

She worked for about fifteen minutes before turning to yell at the boys to have them join her, only to find the four of them crammed into the doorway, watching what she was doing.

She sighed. "Come on in, you lot," she said. "I didn't find anything obvious, but maybe one of you will notice something." She leaned against the desk and pulled out her notes, rearranging them into chronological order, while surreptitiously watching Harry from under her fringe.

Ron and Percy kept going back to the desk drawer, still looking, she presumed, for the missing ledger. George was over at the workbench, examining ingredients and supplies.

And Harry...Harry was wandering along the bookshelf, running his fingers across the spines of the books there. Every once in a while, he'd stop, and a pensive expression would wash across his face.

"Huh," Harry said.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"It's just… This is just a little weird, isn't it?" he said, pointing to the shelf against the back wall.

Ginny looked, trying to see the shelf with fresh eyes. There were rows upon rows of notebooks, each colour-coded and labelled with a series of dates, representing the time the books had been in use.

"See," he said, "all of the books are clustered together by colour. Except for this one," he explained, pointing at a book with a purple binding surrounded by several blue books—the colours were very similar, but there was definitely a difference. "And look, it's upside down, and the date's out of order. See? The blue ones are from last year, and the purple ones are dated this year."

Ginny moved closer to the shelf and stood next to Harry. "You're right, Harry. Good catch. What are these?" she asked, turning to George.

"Notebooks," he said. "We keep records of all our experiments in them so we can go back and repeat—"

"Or not," Ron interrupted.

"Or not," George agreed. "If something didn't work, we wrote down what we did then, too."

Ginny nodded, impressed. She'd never have thought that George or Ron would even think about keeping notes of everything they did, but judging by the number of notebooks on the shelves, it looked like they'd been very meticulous.

"What's in this one?" she asked, pulling the single purple book carefully from the shelf.

"That's last month's," Ron said, checking the date on the spine, "so whatever we worked on last month. There's a recipe for Belching Blossoms, I know, and I think some preliminary notes for the Truth Twisters."

Ginny nodded absentmindedly and started paging through the notebook. "Why wasn't it in the right spot?"

Ron shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe one of us looked at it and wasn't paying attention when we put it away."

"Maybe," Ginny said. "But…"

"But?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, but," she said, holding the open book out so everyone could see it, "someone's torn some pages out."

End chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3: Confounding Conundrum

**Chapter 3: Confounding Conundrum**

"Let me see that," Ron said, taking the notebook from Ginny. He frowned as he flipped through the pages. "Bugger. We're missing the final recipe for the Belching Blossoms. And…" He flipped through the pages again. "Our first notes on the Farting Fudge and the fifth trial of the Truth Twisters."

"You mean the ones that…" George asked, wincing.

Ron shuddered. "Yeah. Those."

"What did they do?" Harry asked curiously.

Percy, George, and Ron looked at each other warily and then turned back to Harry. "You really don't want to know," Percy said finally.

"Really," Ron agreed.

"It can't be _that_ bad, can it?"

Ginny sniggered at his disgruntled expression. "I bet they could just show you, since you want to know so badly," she said. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Erm_, no,_" he said, holding his hands out to ward off the Weasleys, "that's all right. I'm okay not knowing. I was just a little curious is all."

"Wise decision, Harry," Ginny said before turning back to her brothers. "Can I take this with me? I need to do some tests on it and see if I can find any leads, and I can't do that here."

"You're not going to damage it, are you, Ginny?" Percy asked suspiciously. "Because if you are, I need to duplicate it. Just in case, you understand."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "No, Percy, I'm not going to cause any damage. Although duplicating it might not be a bad idea. I don't know how long I'm going to need to keep this."

o.o

Three days later, she hadn't made any progress at all, or at least none that would lead her to the culprit. She'd learned that four pages had been torn out of the notebook, all in a grouping from the fifth through the seventh of March, but that was all. There were no indications that magic had been used on the book, and the remaining pages were all done in either George or Ron's handwriting, messy, with ink blotches dotting the pages.

"Bloody hell," she muttered. She was tired of the dead ends, but it was as though whoever had broken into the shop had been a ghost.

"Weasley, my office." She looked up to see her boss standing at the entry to her cubicle.

"Yes, sir," she said, placing the notebook into one of the specially designed containers made for locking evidence safely away and tapping it with her wand. She took a critical look around at her cubicle before she left for Robards' office, trying to make sure she hadn't left anything important sitting out where anyone could see it.

She left his office fifteen minutes later, beyond furious. She'd been pulled from the case, not because she was related to the victims, which she would have understood even if she disagreed with the reasoning, but because Robards had been blind and couldn't see how the evidence pointed to a crime. She'd tried logic, laying out the clues and evidence in a calm manner (or so she thought, at least), and he still didn't buy it. So she'd tried persuasion, and he told her to get back to work.

Then she lost her temper.

She should've known better by now, really. Robards didn't take well to 'upstart female Aurors who let themselves be ruled by their emotions,' and before she knew what was happening, she'd found herself suspended without pay for the next two weeks.

_Bugger. _

o.o

_I should have Flooed_, she thought, waiting for Harry to open his door. What if he was still doing his workout or at the shop or just out with some girl? She pushed the sick feeling she got from that thought down, so far that it was almost undetectable, and was relieved to hear the lock click and the door open. "Can I come in?" she asked when he'd opened the door fully; he was wearing a pair of jeans and no shirt and was drying his hair with a towel. She'd been right. He _was_ fit. She quickly shoved that thought down next to the sick feeling she'd had earlier.

"Ginny? What are you doing here?" Harry stood at the door, looking bewildered. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"Please?" she asked, nodding at the door.

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, of course," he said. "C'mon in." He looked around and grabbed a shirt off the sofa, putting it on while he kicked a pile of dirty clothes under the sofa. "It's a bit of a mess," he said apologetically, smoothing the shirt down over his stomach. "Haven't had a chance to get it tidied up yet." He blushed and tried to subtly shove another pile of clothes—this one containing a few pairs of his boxers, if she wasn't mistaken—under the armchair.

"It's all right," she said.

"Erm, tea?" he asked. "I mean, do you want some? Or I've got Butterbeer, if you prefer that."

"Got any Firewhisky instead?" she asked.

"I…yeah, I've got some," he said, turning to walk towards the kitchen. "Mind telling me why you want Firewhisky instead of tea?"

She followed him through the flat to the kitchen, wrinkling her nose when she saw the dirty pots and pans on the counters. "Got suspended," she said as she pulled out her wand and directed the dishes to begin wash themselves.

"Suspended?" Harry said, surprised. "Why?"

"Got cheeky with Robards when he took me off George's case," she said, shrugging her shoulders and trying to sound unconcerned. She obviously failed, though, because Harry walked over to the cabinet and took out a bottle of Firewhisky and two glasses before he pulled his wand and flicked it at the dining table, levitating the plates and flatware to the sink. Shaking her head at the mess, she shoved a stack of parchment over and sat at the table.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked, obviously deciding to ignore her silent commentary on his housekeeping skills, and poured the drinks, holding one out for her to take as he sat down across from her. "Are you going to quit the case?" Trust Harry to get right to the point.

She took the glass from him and downed the drink in one swallow. "Merlin, no," she said. "If I do that, the boys will find themselves out of business and all needing to live in my flat with me." She shuddered, both from the Firewhisky coursing through her veins and the very scary thought of her brothers moving in with her. "No, I'm going to do my job. I'm just not going to be paid for it."

She almost dropped her glass at the look of…was that _admiration... _flitting across his face before it was hidden away behind his normal, 'Harry the friend' face.

"Good," he said, leaning back in his chair and tipping it back on two legs. "What do you need me to do?"

"Harry," she said, "you can't…" She put the glass carefully on the table.

"Why not?" he demanded, leaning forwards so the chair hit the floor with a thump. "I've as much right as you do to help. Hell, I may have more—" he raised his hand as she started to protest. "I'm a partial owner," he reminded her. "This affects me, too. Besides, your brothers may not be my brothers in blood, but they might as well be."

She stared at him, hard, judging his sincerity, and then gave him a grudging nod. "All right, then," she said, "we've got to go back to the shop. There's got to be something we're missing…I just don't know what."

o.o

They arrived to chaos.

George looked unconcerned, mostly, but Ginny could see the worry lines around his eyes. Percy was staring at the door, holding a Choose Your Own Adventure Daydream Charm which, judging by the huge pile of boxes on the floor beside him, had come from what _used_ to be a floor-to-ceiling pyramid of the things, and Ron was nowhere to be found.

"What's going on?" Harry asked as soon as he'd got his bearings and taken in what had happened.

"Roger Davies—you know, that Ravenclaw bloke—and that git Smith were here, going on about how sorry they were to hear we were losing the shop," George said.

Ginny watched as Percy carefully put the box he held in his hand down on the counter. "Why would you be losing the shop?" she asked. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Davies said that's what happens to tax frauds," George said. "They get their property confiscated by the Ministry to pay the back taxes."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Really?" she said. "He told you that?" George and Percy nodded.

"Well, that's interesting," Harry said. "You haven't told anyone about the letter, have you?"

"Of course not," Percy said primly. "It's not something we'd want bandied about, would we? Especially since it's not true."

"Well, then," Ginny said, taking up the thread of Harry's conversation, "how did he know?"

"You think he's got something to do with it?" George asked. "And Smith, too?"

"It certainly seems possible, doesn't it?" Ginny said. George swore softly, and Ginny looked around the shop, taking it in. "What happened here?" she asked, nodding at Percy and the pile on the floor.

"Davies backed into me and I fell," Percy said, rubbing his head. "Once they started falling, there was no way to catch them. The customers went running."

"Did Davies and Smith leave, too?"

"Yeah," George said. "Percy fell into the display just before you two got here, and Davies and Smith left right after that."

Ginny nodded, biting her lip as she thought. "Where's Ron?"

"Right here," Ron said, coming out of the back office. "I was checking the office to make sure nothing went missing in all the confusion."

"Did you see anything?" Harry asked.

"Nothing's gone," Ron said, "but something's come back." He nodded towards the door. "Come and see."

They followed him back into the office, and Ginny noted that it looked the same as it had the last time she'd been there, except the desk drawer was wide open, and inside was...

"The ledger," Percy breathed, going over to the desk. He reached his hand out to grab it.

"Wait!" Ginny commanded. "Don't touch that, Percy." She turned to Ron to ask him if he'd touched it, but he held up his hands and shook his head before she got a chance.

"I opened the drawer," he said, "but that's it. As soon as I saw it, I went to get Percy and George."

Ginny let a small smile curl on her lips. "Good boy," she told Ron, walking over to the desk.

"'m not a dog," he muttered.

Ginny ignored him and pulled out her wand to start some diagnostic tests. "It wasn't here this morning?" she asked. Her brothers shook their heads. "You're sure?"

Percy huffed, sounding offended. "Of course, we're sure, Ginevra," he said. "We know what the ledger looks like."

"No need to get your knickers in a twist," she said. "I just needed to ask the question." She waved her wand, casting a spell to check for the use of any magic. "Damn," she muttered, "too much interference to tell." She said another spell, this one to record the scene.

"What's that do?" Ron asked.

"Makes a recording, kind of like a Muggle film," she replied absently, "so we have a record of what the scene looked like. It's more sensitive than photography, and sometimes we can find traces of magic that won't otherwise show up."

"Why didn't you use it last time?" Harry asked.

"Doesn't work unless you use it in the first ten minutes after the crime was committed," she said. "Even then…there's nothing guaranteed, especially in this place. Too much random magic around with all the Wheezes."

Ron looked disappointed. "So you're not going to find anything?" he asked.

"I didn't say that," she said. "I just said it's not likely. It's been too long, and there's too much magic around here for it to work properly." She cast one more look around the room before nodding at Percy.

"All right, Perce," she said, "go ahead. Try not to touch anything other than the desk and the ledger, okay?"

Harry caught her eye and winked as Percy rushed across the office to the desk, and Ginny felt those butterflies she'd shoved down earlier in the evening fluttering around again.

He sidled over next to her, and they watched together as Percy carefully pulled the ledger out of the drawer and onto the desktop, examining it closely. "It looks the same," Percy said, opening the ledger to the day it went missing, "and I don't see anything out of place here, either, at least not on first glance." Percy ran his finger down the page, adding the numbers in his head, then turned the page.

"Oi, Perce," George said.

"What?" Percy grumbled. "You've messed up my addition, George. Now I'm going to have to start over."

"No, wait," Ron said. "I see it, too."

"What?" Harry asked. He and Ginny moved closer to see.

"Look at his finger," Ron said. "Go on, Percy, show them." Percy looked confused for a minute and then flipped his hand over, showing them his index finger, stained a dark greenish-black with ink.

"That's either not our ledger," Percy said firmly, "or it's been tampered with."

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"It's the ink," he said. "It's not mine." He spread out his fingers and ran them down the page and came up with ink on the fingertips, holding them out for the group to see. "See? My ink is black—pure black—and this has a green tint to it. _And_ my ink is quick-drying and permanent. It's a little pricey, but it's worth it." He shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "I'm left-handed, and I got tired of having stains on my hand all the time."

He examined the ledger closer now, leaning in and staring at the ink, then leaning back, a surprised look on his face. "It smells like pine," he said.

"The ledger?" Ginny asked, moving to stand beside him.

"Maybe," he said, "but I think it's the ink." He lifted his hand to his nose and sniffed, nodding. "Definitely the ink."

Ginny grinned. "Percy, you're brilliant," she said. "If we can tie the ink in the doctored journal to Davies or Smith, then we've got a good, solid case."

Harry leaned on the desk. "I don't mean to be a wet blanket," he said, "but why would Davies or Smith do this? I mean," he said, shrugging, "Smith's a git, so I can see him doing this just because of that, but Davies...he doesn't have anything against you lot, as far as I know."

George, Ron, and Percy all looked at each other and shrugged. "He went to the Yule Ball with Fleur," Ron said, the tips of his ears turning pink, "but other than that, I don't know of any connection to the family."

"We'll just have to find out, then, won't we?" Ginny straightened and leaned over to take the ledger. "Percy, where do you get your ink? I want to take this and see if they can tell me anything about the ink that was used in the ledger. When I come back—" Harry coughed, and she rolled her eyes— "when _we_ come back" she corrected, "you're going to need to go through this page by page and see if you can figure out what's been changed."

"I'm certain I'll be able to find any discrepancies," Percy said.

"I'm sure you will, Percy," Ginny soothed, patting his arm to console him. "Can you remind me where you get your ink?"

"Ingrid's Incredible Inks," he said.

"That's over near Madam Malkin's, right?"

"That's the one. Ask for Johanna; she's the most knowledgeable about how the ink is made. It's really quite fascinating, if you get a chance to talk to her."

"Right," she said, shooting Harry a quick glance—he looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. "We probably won't have time this visit, since we need to get to the bottom of this," she told Percy seriously, "but I'll be sure to ask her the next time I'm in there." She turned to Harry, ledger in hand. "Ready?"

"Absolutely," he said, standing straight. "I'll follow you anywhere."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Anywhere, huh? I may have to take you up on that later," she said in her best sultry voice, grinning at the way his cheeks flushed. "But right now, we're just going to Ingrid's."

"Ingrid's. Right," Harry said, looking a little dazed. He shook his head and seemed a little more focussed afterward. His eyes glinted and there was a cocky look on his face. "Lead on, oh fearless leader."

"Stay out of trouble, you three," Ginny said as they walked out the door. "And—"

"We know, we know," George, Ron and Percy said together. "Don't touch anything."

**A/N: One more chapter (which is really more of an epilogue) to go. Thanks again to my wonderful betas, Sherylyn, ohginnyfan, mollywheezy, and queenb23more. **


	4. Epliogue: Telling Truths

**Author's Notes: **And it's done. I had more fun than should be allowed coming up with the tongue twisters—and trying to figure out some way to work them into the story.

**Epilogue: Telling Truths**

**Three Days Later**

"Well?" George asked eagerly when Ginny walked into the back room of WWW.

She grinned as she dumped her rucksack on the floor and settled into a chair next to Harry. "You're safe," she said.

"They got him, then?" Ron asked.

"_We_ got him," she replied. "Caught him red-handed, too. Well, green-handed." She smirked.

"Hang on," Harry said. "_We_?"

"We," she said happily, "me and Malfoy."

"You and that git? I thought you were suspended," Harry said.

"Robards reinstated me. Said they never would've caught him if it hadn't been for my tenacity."

"Bloody well right they wouldn't've," George said.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron interrupted. "Enough about Ginny. I want to know about Davies."

"It was the ink that really broke the case," Ginny said, turning to Percy. "The clerk at the shop was very helpful—she knew as soon as she saw the sample whose it was. Seems Davies has it custom made. Nobody else wants that pine smell he puts in it, and that, plus the dark green colour, makes it especially distinctive." She gave Harry a sly look. "And she was almost falling over herself in order to get Harry's attention."

He kicked her foot. "Shut it, you," he said. "That bloke in the back was acting the same way about you."

"Maybe," she said, shrugging. "But we'll never know if that's the case or if you're just projecting."

"What?" he squeaked. He cleared his throat and repeated it in a more normal tone. "What? I wasn't projecting. I—"

"Merlin's balls," Ron said, "would you two stop flirting and get on with the story, please?"

"Sod off, Ron," Harry grumbled, the tips of his ears turning red. Ginny winked at him and grinned when the blush that had started in his ears spread across his cheeks. Harry was quite adorable when he was embarrassed. "I'll get you for that," he whispered to her, "see if I don't." She waggled her eyebrows at him in challenge.

"Ugh. Do you two _have_ to do that in front of me?" Ron moaned.

"Oh, grow up, Ron," Ginny said. "If Harry and I want to flirt, we'll flirt. Whether you approve or not. Right, Harry?"

"What happened _after_ I had to leave, Ginny?" Harry prompted, obviously trying to direct the attention away from himself. She decided to let it pass this time and returned to her story.

"Did you know Davies and Smith were planning on opening a joke shop?" she asked conversationally.

"Blow me," George said.

Ginny gave a mock shudder. "No thanks," she said, her eyes cutting to Harry. "My interests lie somewhere else for that sort of thing." Interesting. His neck turned the same red as his ears.

"That, I think," Percy said, "is too much information, Ginevra. What about the joke shop? And how did you find out about it?"

"Harry got called in for an emergency team meeting," she explained, "so after he left, I took the evidence we'd collected and went to have a little chat with Robards."

"Even though you'd been suspended?" Percy asked He sounded amazed that she'd just ignore that little fact and go into work anyway.

She gave him a pointed look. "Really, Percy," she said, shaking her head in disbelief, "you're my brother. Shouldn't you know by now that I'm not really the best rule-follower around?"

"That's our Gin-Gin," George said, grinning. "Always the rebel. Never the follower."

"Merlin's beard, Percy," Ron added. "You grew up with her like we did. You _know_ how she is."

Harry winked at her and she winked back.

"Robards had some interesting information to share, once I showed him the evidence," she said, turning back to her explanation. "That's when he told me about D & Z's Daily Dalliances. That's what they were going to call it," she added when she noticed their confused looks. "They were set to move into the shop next month. But they had to eliminate the competition first."

"Us," Ron stated, matter of factly.

"You," Ginny confirmed. "WWW is really the only name in magical prank and joke items right now. So they took it upon themselves to frame you for tax evasion and fraud. Even if they didn't manage to shut you down for good, the time you'd spend fighting the charges would be time away from the shop—and the workshop. It'd be enough to let them get their feet on the ground."

She looked at Harry. "Remember when they said you didn't want to know what the previous iterations of the Truth Twisters did?" He nodded warily. "Davies found out. Firsthand," she added.

George snorted in laughter. "How bad?"

"Did you know that if you don't treat the boils within two hours, they start to connect?

"Boils?" Harry asked.

"Giant purple and green ones," Ron confirmed.

"And you get them everywhere_,_" George said.

"Everywhere?" Harry asked. "Even—"

"_Everywhere_," Percy said, shuddering. "I've never seen them connect, though."

"It was quite the scene," Ginny said. "And the truth-telling bit—well, it gets stronger. Makes you say all sorts of things you don't want to."

"I thought the final version made you say things you don't want to," Harry said, sounding confused.

"Nah," George said, waving his hand. "It just makes you a little more willing to say things, see? You can still control it and keep yourself from spilling the beans if you really didn't want anyone to know."

"So?" Ron asked. "What'd he say?"

Ginny raised her index finger. "In a minute, Ron. Robards told me to take my evidence and catch up with Malfoy—"

"Git," Ron said.

"Ponce," George said.

"Arse," Harry chimed in.

"_Partner,_" Ginny reminded them. "Malfoy was at D and Z's when I got there. You know how he'd been pulled off to work with Samson on the Greene case?" They nodded. "Well, Greene works in the BLTO."

"BLTO?" Harry asked.

"The Business Licensing and Tariffs Office," Percy said. "That's convenient."

"Isn't it, though? They found evidence of Greene granting operating licenses to people who really have no business at all even _thinking_ about opening a shop, _and_ he had a list of spurious reasons to send over to the auditors if he needed someone else—or their shop—out of the way. He'd even tried to close Ollivander's down once, believe it or not." She shook her head in disbelief. "Greene was kind enough to be very meticulous when it came to keeping records. Davies and Smith paid him, and more than once, to get him to investigate perfectly law-abiding citizens. They're the reason Blaogoon's Books went out of business; Davies wanted Blaogoons' location." She smirked. "Malfoy told me Greene squealed like a stuck hippogriff, once they got him into interrogation."

"That's great," Ron said, "but you wouldn't have made such a big deal about Davies and the older version of the Truth Twisters if there hadn't been a point. So… what's the point?"

"That's the best part," she said, laughing. "When I got there, Malfoy and Samson were interviewing Davies. Those boils were getting bigger and bigger every minute, and Malfoy kept asking questions while Samson looked menacing. You could tell Davies was trying to fight it, you know?" She snorted. "Actually, the more he fought, the bigger the boils got, now that I think about it."

"Really?" George asked eagerly, reaching for a new purple notebook and a quill. "We could use that!" he said, turning to Ron. "You know, in the Skiving Snackboxes? And the—"

"Oi," Harry said, "focus, please! You can plan your next Wheeze later. I want to know what happened."

"He confessed. Broke down and said, 'Rummaging Roger wrongs Ron,' plain as day," Ginny said. "And then Smith, the pansy, chimed in with 'Dastardly Davies did the deed!' So not only do we have the evidence, we've got their confessions, too."

"Will they be admissible in court?" Percy asked.

"Should be," Ginny said, unconcerned. "It's not like we administered Veritaserum illegally. They did it to themselves."

Ron burst out laughing. "Brilliant!"

"What happens next?" George asked.

"They've arrested Davies and Smith. I'm sure they're going to hire solicitors and try to get out of it, but really, I think it's an open-and-shut case. You lot are going to have to testify, though," she said, looking at them. "That includes you, Harry."

"That's fine," he said, looking unconcerned. "They deserve anything they get. You do good work, Weasley," he said, smiling at her. The words were innocuous, but the look he was giving her was anything but, and she felt those damn butterflies begin to flutter in her stomach again. Between the smile and that look…she was done for. If only her brothers weren't in the room.

"So," Ron said, breaking the tension, "time to celebrate now?"

Ginny looked away from Harry, feeling her face flush this time. Blast him. She thought she was over blushing around him. She was an Auror, damn it.

"Got any more of those Truth Twisters?" Harry asked, turning his head to look at George. "The real ones, I mean," he clarified.

"Got some right here, mate," George said, reaching behind him to grab the bowl of sweets from off the desk.

"They won't make me say anything I don't want to, right?" Harry asked George. "I can stop myself from saying something if I don't want anyone to hear?"

George gave Harry a calculating look. "That's right," he replied. "And since you can throw off the _Imperius _so easily, you won't have any trouble at all with these."

"Let's have one, then," Harry said, holding his hand out. His eyes locked with Ginny's as he took the sweet and unwrapped it.

"Harry, you don't have to—"

"I know I don't, Ginny. I _want_ to," he said, winking, before popping the sweet in his mouth. "Glorious Ginny glows gorgeously. How very gorgeous is glorious Ginny when she glows." A slow smile—a _devastating_ smile, she thought—grew on his face.

"I—you think I'm gorgeous?" she asked, ignoring her brothers and the gagging noise Ron was making. "Really?"

He opened another one, eating it quickly. "Fabulous female form is fantastically fit," he said when he was through chewing.

"Right," she said, looking at her brothers pointedly, "you lot, get out. Harry, you stay."

"But, Ginny, I need to go through the books," Percy complained.

"Do it later, Percy," she said, staring at Harry, who was blushing again, although his eyes sparkled brightly.

"But—"

"Out!" she demanded. She pulled her wand and started tapping it against her thigh, her eyes never leaving Harry's.

"Right, we'll just—" Ron said.

"—be going now," George finished, grabbing Percy by the elbow and dragging him towards the door.

"But—" Percy said.

"I think we can find a better use for your talents right now, Percy," George said. "Unless, of course, you want Ginny to hex you?"

"Erm, no," Percy replied. "No, I don't want that. Let me just—" he gathered the books up into an unsteady pile—" take these with me. I can work on them somewhere else."

"All right, boys and girls," George said as he and his brothers were leaving the room, "don't do anything I wouldn't do." He winked at Harry as he backed out of the room and closed the door behind them with a click.

"So," Ginny said.

"So."

"Did you mean it?" she asked. "Those things you said?"

"Of course, I meant it," he said. "You heard George. I could've stopped myself and said something different if I hadn't wanted to say it."

"But why now, Harry? Why not last month, or last year or…" She threw her hands up in frustration.

He shrugged and looked down at the floor. "Was afraid, I suppose. I just… We're friends, yeah?"

"Of course."

"Friends aren't supposed to think about each other that way. Especially when we're talking about the little sister of some of the best friends I've ever had. You know I love your family, and, well…"

She crossed her arms and scowled at him. "You know what? You're a prat, Harry. A great, giant, bleeding prat."

"So I've been told." He gave her a cheeky grin, obviously trying to lighten the mood. She raised an eyebrow at him and watched as the grin faltered, then faded.

"Right then," he said, "the truth is - you're brilliant." He held up his hand to stop her from speaking. "Let me finish. You're brilliant. I've known it forever, and there's always been _something_ telling me I should just gather my Gryffindor courage and do something about it, but it's just been this niggling little voice, and I could mostly ignore it. Until the past few weeks, when we were working together." He looked at her seriously and stood to move closer to her. "We work well together, Ginny—we complement each other, and I know I'm just a Quidditch player and you're the Auror, but I really enjoyed helping you with this. At least, I think I helped."

She nodded, entranced.

"Besides," he said, flushing a little, "you're dead sexy when you take charge like that." He shrugged and looked sheepish. "I didn't have much of a chance, really."

"You really are thick," she said, moving closer to him—so close they were almost touching.

"I know," he said. He put his hands on her shoulders.

"But I'm not much better," she admitted, moving her hands to rest on his waist. "I could've—_should_ have—said something earlier."

"Yeah?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah," she said. "You're right. We do work well together. And we're definitely more than friends."

He looked hopeful. "What exactly are you saying, Ginny?"

"Give me one of those Truth Twisters," she said, backing up a little bit to grab one from the bowl on the counter, unwrap it, and put it into her mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly. "The git gets the girl; the girl the git gets, is what I mean," she said.

"You mean me? And you?"

"Harry," she said. She waited until he was looking her in the eye.

"Yeah?"

"I know you're not stupid, but are you being thick on purpose?"

"I'm not being thick. I'm just…making certain."

"So you _are_ being thick," she said, making sure to keep her voice matter of fact, in spite of the frustration she was feeling. If only he'd just shut up and kiss her.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I'm being thick." He straightened his shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Ginny, can I—"

"Don't you dare ask to kiss me, Harry Potter, or I swear to Merlin I'll hex you so badly you'll make Davies' boils look like they were cast by a Squib." She watched his face fall and grabbed his hand before he could back away. "Wait, Harry. That came out wrong. I meant that you don't need to ask. Just…you know."

"You know?" Harry said, a small smile teasing the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin. Do I have to do everything myself?" she said, standing up on her tiptoes. She paused right before her lips touched his. "Shut up and kiss me, Harry."

"Whatever the witch wishes," he whispered, right before he lowered his lips to hers.

-End-

**A/N, part 2:** And now for a little secret of my own. :o)

I never intended for Draco to be Ginny's partner. He was supposed to just be some random obnoxious bloke, and Ginny would (quite often, and quite unfavourably) compare him to Draco. But there were so many people who thought it was Draco that I eventually just went with it, especially since I knew when I started writing that I wanted to make the "villain" of the fic be anything but a Slytherin. I thought the idea of making the "bad guys" be a former Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would be fun; it went against the stereotypical 'Slytherins are evil' trope, at least. And if I was going to go so far as to make a Hufflepuff (where I would almost certainly be sorted, if I'd had the chance) be one of the thieves, well, then, who would be better to make Ginny's partner (and an honest one at that!) than Draco Malfoy?


End file.
